Be Good
by Werkaz
Summary: "What d'you want from me, girl!" Daryl exclaimed, glaring at the woman in front of him, her eyes on fire and her golden waterfall hair a mess. "Well, it sure as hell ain't the mansion and money!" Beth spat with a hysterical laugh, motioning around his two-bedroom apartment. She took a breath and stepped towards him,frowning. "I want you and that kid and nothin' else, Daryl Dixon."
1. Chapter 1

Daryl Dixon was running late.  
Again.  
It took all the self-control he had in him to not cuss out loud with Oliver balanced on his left arm. In no way was he in the mood for the twenty-three-month-old boy to repeat the one thing he insisted on repeating in day care. It was just 7:10 and the 7:15 bus had already left, making him miss it by only a few steps. If that's what he gets for waking Oliver up at half past six to catch an earlier bus that would not be affected by the quarter to eight traffic, he'd rather just be late on purpose to make the kid less whiny.  
In that very moment when Daryl was distracted checking how long it would be until the next bus arrived, Oliver started wriggling around, kicking his little denim-clad legs and thrashing his torso.

"Goddamnit, Oli," Daryl grumbled, his other hand flying to the child's back to make sure he didn't fall backwards. Rather than mimicking Daryl, Oli continued fussing, grumbling, squealing and thrashing his legs and arms against his father.

"Ya really think I wanted to wake you up half an hour early? Calm down," Daryl muttered, knowing full well that Oli didn't necessarily understand, nor care what Daryl was saying. What he did care for however, was being a right pain in his father's neck.

"Bus! Bus!" Oli shrieked at the top of his lungs, unknowingly kicking Daryl where the sun doesn't shine.

"Fuckin' hell!" Daryl yelped, keeling over and securing an arm around Oli's legs to keep them from causing any further damage.

"Fukinnn 'ell!" Oli shouted, suddenly grinning from ear to ear. Once again, Daryl wondered whether this definitely wasn't Merle's kid. Not seriously, of course. But the child sure did resemble Merle when he made Daryl's life a misery. Luckily, there was no one there to scowl or grumble at Daryl.

Despite his plight, Daryl looked up to see what Oliver was so excited about. Sure, it was a bus- but the 12A, which went the long way around; past the farms, the high school and the hospital. It still went past the day care that was located next to the elementary school- in fact, it terminated the stop after. However, it added an extra twenty minutes to the journey, making it a thirty-five-minute bus ride with a fussy child that had an aversion to keeping still.  
Deciding to try his luck, considering the other bus would get there in another twenty minutes, Daryl fished his bus pass out of his back pocket and hailed the bus down.

"Shouldn't be too bad," He muttered to Oliver, who was frowning and trying to kick his little legs under Daryl's steel grip. "Ya ain't kickin' me again, kid,"

Oliver's frown deepened and his entire face flashed red. "FuU-"

"This really ain't the time for this," Daryl told his son as calmly as he could, balancing the child on his hip and bouncing him around as he flashed his bus pass and quickly shoved Oliver's dummy in his mouth.

He couldn't believe Oliver at times like these. The kid was as quiet as Daryl had been as a young boy, but when Oliver did decide to speak in public, it was rarely something that reflected how hard his father tried to raise him properly. Daryl himself didn't see the fuss about swearing, but even he cringed at the thought of his son walking around swearing like Merle. That was the reason for Daryl's somewhat estranged relationship with his brother, and his effort to refrain from swearing around Oliver. Daryl had never cared much for school, nor did he ever consider a mother something necessary in his life. He had been so detached from all of that, until this inconvenience entered his life.

That was how he saw his son when that girl, Ania, had told him she was pregnant and in fact, she was not going to abort it, because she did not believe in that. Yet somehow she believed in abandoning a five-day-old kid. Daryl didn't want a kid, at first. He just wanted to live and die in peace. And he almost did, until he saw Oliver open his eyes from the incubator, so frail after being born five weeks early, and his hearse cry so pathetic that it broke Daryl's heart.  
Oliver had his mother's field-mouse coloured hair and his father's blue eyes. He was tall for his age, and his cherubic face somehow stood out from all the other chubby little faces in his day care group. Maybe it was Daryl being an overbearing parent who saw his child in a brighter light than the other dribbling, screaming children. But Oliver definitely was a beautiful child, with his almost "exotic" (as so kindly put by the nursery nurse, who also couldn't find the right word to describe him) Slavic features; the snub nose, the heart-shaped face and high cheekbones that could be easily seen even with all of his baby fat. Thin but defined rosy lips and almond-shaped eyes. Yet despite these obviously Slavic features, Oliver still resembled his father. Daryl didn't question the child's paternity when Oliver opened his eyes from that nap, on that day Daryl almost gave him up.  
And from that moment, his entire life changed. His entire outlook on life, and his reasoning for his thirty-three years of existence. Those pathetic thirty-one years he had lived through before this child came into his life had reason. All the nightmarish things he had seen now only seemed like a lesson to him; a lesson of what his son's life would never look like while Daryl lived. Daryl wanted Oliver to finish high school and make something of himself. He wanted Oliver to have a loving home, which he did- even without a mother.  
Distracted by his thoughts and rubbing Oliver's tummy, Daryl didn't notice Oliver's chubby fingers wrapped around the waterfall of blonde hair hanging on the seat in front of them. Daryl quickly grabbed Oliver's little hands, trying to untangle the golden strands from his tiny fingers.

"Oli, let go," Daryl told his son, embarrassed. Oliver wouldn't, and he began grizzling like a ridiculously hairless bear when Daryl kept trying to gently guide his hands away.

"It's alright," Came a laugh. Daryl soon realised it was the girl in front of them speaking. He watched as she slowly turned her head as much as she could without snatching her hair from Oli's death grip.

"Sorry, he-" Daryl started, then suddenly it was as if the words had been taken from his mouth. The girl, even twisted around in an uncomfortable angle, was beautiful. Her smile was the kind of genuine, wide smile that could even melt Daryl like butter. Her eyes were bright with amusement and when she made a fuss of Oliver, it was like the genuine amazement of a kid when it sees an adorable kitten.

"It's no bother, really." She smiled again, sitting up carefully. After two minutes, she took a deep breath and said to Daryl, "It seems that my hair is keeping him happy, so if you'd like, I can take him onto my lap for the rest of the journey and keep him busy, and you of course, can come sit here."

The girl patted the seat next to her, upon which a blue backpack was perched.  
Daryl didn't know what to say, and stared at her in dazed wonder for a moment. _Get yourself together, Dixon. It's just a girl._

"Or not…" She giggled, a hint of a blush spreading across her pretty cheeks. "Sorry, that may have been a bit forward. You see, I'm studying to be a nurse and-"

"No," Daryl cleared his throat. "Sorry. I meant, if you want. If it ain't no bother. The kid can't keep his hands away from long hair."

"We already have something in common then, little man!" The girl laughed as she sat up straight and took Oliver into her arms, settling him on her lap. "And what might your name be?"

Oliver was a shy kid, and it took a prompt or two from her and Daryl to lisp out "Owiverrrr".

"Well, Oliver, that sure is a lovely name," She grinned at the boy, and then at his father, who had sat down in the seat next to her after she singlehandedly pulled her backpack off it and kicked it under her feet. "I'm Beth. Beth Greene."

"Daryl Dixon." He told her, shaking her free hand that wasn't holding Oli securely.

"So how old is he?" Beth asked cheerfully, not wincing once when Oliver pulled on her hair a bit too hard. At the same time as Daryl said "twenty-three months,", Oliver thrust his little fist in front of Beth's face, sticking up his pointy finger.

"Silly daddy," Oliver's most used public words came out, making Beth burst into adorable, contagious giggles at the same time as Daryl smirked and tickled Oliver's tummy.  
And just like that, with her contagious giggle, bright eyes and sunshine, Beth Greene entered the lives of Oliver and Daryl Dixon.

Hi! I don't know where this story is going, nor how often I will be able to update. I have lots of work and this storyline just seemed too cute a daydream to not write down. I apologise if it isn't very good- my creative writing skills have become quite rusty over the past year. Werka xo


	2. Chapter 2

Beth Greene was what Daryl would have considered the typical college girl at first glance, minus her hospital scrubs. She was pretty, bubbly and most of all, tired. However, unlike every other young person in their early twenties, she didn't show she was tired, nor did she make a massive fuss of being tired. She paid full attention to the person she was talking to; her eyes didn't wander to the window or her watch, she didn't jump to assumptions. But it was in Daryl's nature to be suspicious of everyone, and he couldn't help but assume that Beth Greene, like everyone else, saw him as a redneck who didn't know how to raise his kid.

But actually, Beth did not see him that way whatsoever. In her eyes, he was a rather good looking father trying to keep his sleepy, charming child from getting too grizzly. Beth didn't blame either of them; Daryl seemed like someone who kept to himself and didn't like prying eyes or annoyed glances. Oliver was just a kid dragged out of bed too early; she wished she could be moody about her early wake-up call, too. She had stayed at her sister Maggie's apartment the night before, believing her sister when she said she would drive her to the hospital.  
No such luck, of course. Maggie refused to budge at 6am. Nor at 6:30… 6:45... And 6:55am, when Beth decided to leave and leg it for the bus. No doubt, there would be a phone call from an annoyed Maggie later, asking why Beth didn't wake her up.

Beth and Daryl didn't talk much, apart from the rare exchange of comments about Oliver, and brief small talk about what the other did; Beth was studying to become a nurse and volunteered at the hospital three times a week as work experience. She was looking for a part-time job because she felt silly depending on her daddy at the age of twenty-one. Daryl worked at the garage in town, and he was going to be late for the fifth time this month. It was only the 14th of April. Daryl desperately needed someone to take Oliver to and from day care and stay with him so that Daryl could work normal hours again. Of course, he could do that anyway and let Oliver spend two or three hours more in day care, but it wasn't exactly cheap. Daryl had considered a babysitter, but he had never been comfortable with the idea of a stranger along with his child in his apartment. Merle had always found this laughable when Daryl refused to go out night after night. But Merle was as childish as Oliver half the time, so it was to be expected.

Daryl briefly considered Beth, but decided against it as soon as the thought entered his mind. No way was he asking some random girl on the bus whether she would take the responsibility of his son's safety for a few hours three times a week. Not only was that something he wouldn't trust a stranger with, but he also knew how creepy he might seem asking. Daryl had a strange way of thinking. He expected the worst and didn't trust anyone, but the rare decent person he did come across, he kept a distance from as not to be the dick he tended to be when something kicked at his guard.

"Well Oliver, it's time for me to go!" Beth told Oliver in a lispy, childlike voice, knowing that a happy voice is all a child needed to hear; the words didn't necessarily matter, but the tone did.

Oliver understood and clutched harder onto Beth's hair. The furious face he made at her whilst shaking his head made both her and Daryl burst out laughing all over again.

"Don't make me feel guilty, you cheeky monkey," Beth cooed, softly easing Oliver's hands from her hair. "Will you press the stop button for me?"

Oliver's eyes lit up and he squealed a "yes!" before pressing the red stop button twice too many times.

"Hey, that's enough, Oli," Daryl smirked, pulling his son's hands away from the stop button.

Beth placed Oliver on Daryl's lap and looked at the older man from under her eyelashes and smiled at him, her cheeks somewhat pink. Daryl, of course, didn't think anything of it.

"It was great meeting you and this little heartbreaker," Beth told Daryl, outstretching her hand to shake his goodbye. They met eyes for what seemed like half a second before Daryl averted his eyes so that they were still on her, but not on her eyes.

"Yeah, great meetin' ya," Daryl mumbled with a half-smile. Beth briefly wished he would smile properly, but shook the thought and nodded at the quiet man. "See ya 'round,"

"Yeah, see ya!" Beth said. Picking her backpack up, she stood up and ruffled Oliver's silky field-mouse hair. Daryl desperately wanted to say something else for the first time, and before he could stop himself-

"Beth?" He bit his tongue as she turned her head as she walked towards the exit. And again, he changed his mind.

"Yeah, Daryl?" She asked, pushing her golden waterfall hair behind her ear.

Daryl didn't know what to say so he decided to spare himself from looking like a fool and lifted Oliver's hand to wave goodbye. "Enjoy yaself,"

The bus door opened, and she stepped out, calling over her shoulder with a wave. "Thanks! You too!"

Oliver, of course, wasn't too thrilled about Beth, and most importantly her hair, being gone.

"Beh," He would call, looking around to see where Beth had gone. It was pretty cute but also annoying for Daryl. After trying multiple toys from Oliver's nappy bag, Daryl pulled Oliver's orange juice out, and as usual, that did the trick. Daryl was pretty proud of the fact that Oliver had been only wearing nappies to bed, and was completely potty trained whilst awake, for six months already. Of course, at first it didn't work and there was clothes changing and washing on an almost daily basis, but with a bit of patience and training from Daryl and the nursery nurse Carol, Oliver eventually mastered the art of tugging at whichever adult was present and rushing to the potty or toilet. Daryl had managed to slowly- though not yet completely- steer Oliver to the toilet rather than the potty with a Cars children's toilet seat cover.

Daryl still snorted at himself with amusement when he gave thought to how parental he had gotten. He found himself spending more time in the toddler clothes section and toy section whenever he went shopping for food or other essentials. He would often go to buy himself some shaving cream or bacon, and come back with a new Monsters Inc toothbrush, packets of fruit in the shapes of animals and eggs. He felt like one of those suburban mums half the time, and it genuinely bothered him at first.

Once they got off the bus, Daryl once again began cussing himself out in his head for not asking Beth if she'd be interested in babysitting for a reasonable price. It was 8:52 and Daryl had eight minutes to get Oliver to day care and get to work.

This wouldn't do for much longer. As understanding as his boss was, even he was beginning to get annoyed by Daryl's tardiness. Daryl arrived at the garage at quarter past 8. "Sorry," He muttered.

Andrew grimaced but nodded. "Try getting up earlier next time, yeah,"

"The fuckin' 7:15 bus left five minutes early," Daryl grumbled. "Had to get the one that goes 'round the farms and hospital."

And yet, Daryl Dixon did not feel a bit of remorse for it. In fact, he didn't mind that damned 12A and its cruise around town whatsoever.

Well, I'm surprised at how quickly I updated this! Thank you so much for the feedback, favourites and subs! I'm flattered and if it isn't too much to ask for, do keep them coming. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Beth wondered what Daryl was doing, and blushed at her schoolgirlish thoughts. How dumb, she thought as she tied her hair up in the staff bathroom on the first floor of the hospital. What is this, junior high?

There's just something about him, she decided, remembering his half-smile, his tired eyes and somewhat guarded aura. His lips, eyes, his jawline. She shook her head and frowned at herself in the mirror, almost scolding herself in the way mama might have playfully.

"Pull yaself together, Beth," She muttered as she left the bathroom, training her usual "approachable" smile, although she had been told she would look approachable whilst killing someone. She knew it was intended as a compliment, but she couldn't help but feel somewhat offended. Did that mean she looked defenceless and like a damsel in distress? She didn't like that at all.

"Hiya, Beth!" Mrs P, the secretary smiled at her as Beth signed in. "Mr Barlow has been asking for you,"

"Isn't he always?" Beth smiled, making the older woman laugh. Beth didn't mind Mr Barlow at all; he was a sweet elderly man recovering after a car crash. He seemed more bothered by the fact that he had lost his driver's license than he was by being in hospital. Although him and his wife managed as well as any person twenty years younger, Mrs Barlow couldn't get her husband back and forth for check-ups, nor could she look after him as required whilst he was recovering; he was a rather heavy man, whilst she was a small lady. They bickered as elderly couples did, and Beth adored their stories of their life together. In a way, it made her sad. She wondered whether this kind of life-long love could still happen. It had always scared her, the thought of falling in love, getting married and having a couple of children, just to end up divorced in her forties and alone for the rest of her life.

Beth prepared the two cups of tea she always did each morning; one for Mr Barlow with milk and a small spoonful of sugar, and one for herself with lemon and a cube and a half of brown sugar for herself. She also knew that it was the way Mrs Barlow liked her tea. Beth had forgotten to ask Mrs P whether the elderly lady was with her husband already, so she would give her tea to her if that were the case.

"Good morning, Mr Barlow!" Beth said brightly, setting his tea on his bedside table along with her own. She motioned to the mostly-finished scrambled eggs. "Done with breakfast?"

"Morning, sweetheart," The elderly man said cheerfully. "Sure do miss making my own food, and even more so, my Annie's cooking!"

"You'll be out of here and," Beth lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "away from this godawful food within no time!"

The older man chuckled and patted Beth's arm. "Shouldn't be insulting the cook!"

"It'll be our little secret." Beth replied with a laugh, plopping down in the seat next to Mr. Barlow's hospital bed. "Is everything alright? The medicine, your leg, keeping your food down? It's a lovely day outside, and you haven't been for a walk in over a week now. If you're feeling well enough, today would be day for your walk,"

"That sure would be lovely, dear," Mr. Barlow replied. "If that wouldn't be too much bother and wouldn't interfere with your other responsibilities?"

"Well, it so turns out that my responsibilities today include checking on you and four other patients, cleaning the rooms and then taking you on your walk, I'm sure it won't!"

By 12, Beth was done with cleaning, serving tea and her break, and it was time for Mr Barlow's walk. He had requested to go into town for his walk, and surprisingly allowed it, as long as they were taken into town by the hospital's car service. Neither of them minded; this way they could make the most of the two hours in which Mr. Barlow wanted to find some decent snacks to hide in his bedside locker and a present for his wife- he was the kind of person who _itched_ to spend his money when he got his monthly pension. And Beth?  
Well, no prizes for guessing what Beth was looking for. Job adverts, interesting new teas she didn't have in her collection yet and her favourite snacks for binge watching her new obsession; Sons of Anarchy. Thinking about the show's Jax Teller, she found her mind wandering to another leather jacket-clad, baby-holding, shaggy-haired and probably motorcycle-riding man. Daryl Dixon. Beth felt a blush creep across her cheeks as she imagined the latter man in a SOA leather jacket, motioning for her to join him with a saucy smirk on his motorcycle for a wild ride through the dirt roads, among other things.  
Beth's eyes widened as she shook those thoughts from her mind. _What would your grandmother say?_ she scolded herself crossly in her head. _She would drown you in holy water.  
_ Of course, Daryl was definitely on top of the list of what she hoped to find in town. And once again, she felt ridiculously silly for thinking about a man she had made small talk with on the 7:15 bus, but there was definitely something about Daryl Dixon that made her think the way she did.  
Shopping was uneventful for the first hour and thirty minutes, until they went into the grocery store.  
"Right, where would you like to go first?" Beth asked her charge cheerfully. "Fruit, juice, biscuit or chocolate section?"  
And so they went through Mr. Barlow's shopping. Eventually, with fifteen minutes left, Beth went to the bakery part of the store, just to stop dead in her tracks. There, staring intently at the different cookies and cupcakes, was Daryl Dixon. Beth didn't know if she should say something, or pretend not to notice him. _Now, that would be ridiculous, in such a small bakery section._

Swallowing and taking a deep breath, Beth walked over with Mr. Barlow in tow. When she spoke, she felt silly once again and mentally slapped herself for her earlier thoughts about Daryl. She could hardly look him in the eye without blushing. "Daryl! Hi!"

Daryl turned his head towards her when she approached him. "Heya, Beth." He didn't know what to say, if he were to be completely honest. "Erm, are ya on a break or are you done with work for today?"

"Oh, no, I'm here with one of our patients," Beth told him. "My favourite patient actually, but don't tell the others. Meet Mr. Barlow."  
The two men greeted each other, and Beth spoke up to fill in the silence afterwards. "And you? On your break?"

"Yeah, then back to work until 5 again." Daryl decided it was a now-or-never situation. "You know I mentioned needing someone to watch Oliver?"

"Yeah?" Beth replied as she put five mix-and-match cookies into a brown paper bag.

"I was wonderin' if… ya know, you bein' a nurse 'n all… Would you erm…"

"Are you offering me a job, Mr. Dixon?" Beth asked teasingly, smiling at how cripplingly shy the older man was about asking for help.

"Somethin' like that." Daryl muttered, scratching the back of his head and then meeting her eyes.

"I wouldn't mind that at all," The petite blonde woman replied softly, biting her lip subconsciously in though before noticing the clock above them. 1:54. "Could we discuss the details later over coffee or somethin'? We have the ride back to the hospital in a few minutes."

"Yeah, 'course." He replied, blinking slightly as Beth pulled a pen out of her bag, grabbed his arm and cradled it as she wrote her number on his wrist. She graced him with yet another smile, her cheeks ablaze and carried off on her way.

Beth could have cried of mortification right then. Why had she blurted out a suggestion of coffee? What was she thinking getting in his personal bubble? As if he would call her, thinking she was into him. Sure, she knew she was overreacting, but she wasn't about to argue with herself and feel even crazier.

"A nice young man," Mr. Barlow commented as Beth picked out a box of salted caramel flavoured tea. _Salted caramel flavoured tea, what a time to be alive._ Beth thought, trying not to think of Daryl further and putting a box of it into her basket before heading off to the counters. "A bit older than you though, ain't he?"

Beth burst out laughing. "Oh Mr. Barlow, it's like hearing my daddy. It's definitely not like that. He seems like a nice man, but I don't even know him so I can't form that kinda opinion on him," But Mr. Barlow wasn't a fool, and continued.

"You be careful there, sweetheart. He seems like a lovely young man, but not the easiest to live with."

Beth didn't pay much mind to what Mr. Barlow was saying, because although she would not deny her attraction to Daryl to herself, she wasn't planning on doing anything other than babysitting his son for him. She nodded and smiled politely at the man who had become like a grandfather to her. "I'll be careful."

They made it back to the parking lot five minutes late, but Beth didn't mind, even though the driver didn't look too pleased. Once they got back to the hospital, Beth helped Mr Barlow arrange his newly purchased items in his room before making him another cup of tea and bidding him farewell.

That evening, back at her daddy's house rather than Maggie's apartment, Beth sat down to dinner with them. She wanted nothing more than to slide into a hot bubble bath with a good book and a cup of tea as she helped her mother wash the dishes and her father put the animals back in the barn for the night. It was only 6pm and it was still light outside but the foxes were unpredictable.

Half an hour later, Beth was preparing for her bath when her phone began to ring. She pouted at the bath bomb swirling around, not only turning the water a shade of baby pink but along with the bubble bath liquid spilled under the pouring water creating bubbles that resembled candyfloss.

"Hello?" She said tiredly as she turned the phone onto loudspeaker and continued undressing.

"Hi, Beth." Came Daryl's low voice. Beth decided she could definitely get used to the raspy way he said her name.

"Daryl. Hi." Beth said loudly to make sure he heard her over the pouring water. Daryl couldn't even admit it to himself as a pre-formed thought, but he definitely felt how comforting it was hearing her say his name.

I am so sorry for taking so long to update, my lovelies. I've been drowning in History coursework and revision as I'm off to uni in Spetember. Finally finished the coursework earlier this week though- needed a bit of time to recharge. Those of you who do History A-level understand the pain. :P

As always, do let me know what you think, feedback is always welcome, so do comment, fav and follow ^_^


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